The Untold Tales
by Ciloron
Summary: The Untold Tales start where the Tides of Chaos: Book I ended. Follow a few characters in a few short tales during the siege of Omashu. Where The Untold Tales will end, Book II shall pick up. I highly recommend reading Book I first, in order to understand what you read. Rated T, might be changed to M later on.
1. I

_The Untold Tales are little stories that I couldn't fit into either Book I or Book II. I will hereby make the notion that some of these stories can't be considered canon, unlike _ Tides of Chaos, _which is completely canon. (Yes, I determine what of my own fics are canon to my own creations.) I also recommend checking out five fics by other authors, starring ToC characters._

_1. Getting Clean by alyssialui_

_2. Rude Awakenings by alyssialui_

_3. Surprises by alyssialui_

_4. No More Games by alyssialui (M-rated)_

_5. CC's Secret Santa Fic by siempie78 (M-rated)_

_These two authors projected their own views on certain characters and put them on paper. Not only do I appreciate this, it also inspires me. Besides, it's just fun to find out how much people's view differ on certain characters._

_The Untold Tales will span the time between Book I - Earth and Book II, which I will start posting after this fic comes to an end._

_Every chapter will contain three short tales with the same theme. It is up to you to find out what that theme is._

DISCLAIMER: I don't own ATLA.

* * *

><p><strong>The Untold Tales<strong>

* * *

><p>I.<p>

* * *

><p><span>Kukuh's First Summer in Omashu<span>

Walking through the streets of Omashu, Kukuh felt safe for the first time since the war began. The feeling of safety he had felt in times past, during the journey, couldn't match the feeling he had now, knowing that the walls around the city, and beyond that the deep abyss, would keep those who would mean harm to him out. Nevertheless, king Batu had advised him to reveal his identity to no one. Being under siege, people might turn on him.

Something caught Kukuh's eye, drawing him towards the scene.

In the middle of a plaza, a girl was dancing, spinning around in a slow, entrancing rate.

Ribbons of many colors were tied to her arms and legs, which fluttered along with her, on the wind, in the circling motion.

Kukuh sat down, somewhere in the corner of the plaza, far away from the dancer, watching her every movement from afar.

She was like a colorful whirlwind, though she only spun around slowly, due to those many ribbons following her around.

On one foot she stood, never lifting it from the ground, unless she swapped it for the other leg, staying ever connected to the earth. Her free leg she used to provide the power for her spinning motion, though she sometimes flexed it behind her back, or sideways in front of her stomach.

Kukuh watched her dance for who knows how long, enthralled by the repetitive, graceful movements, not noticing how barely clad she was, until she took a small break from dancing.

She looked around a bit, the sun reflecting from her sweaty sun-tanned skin. She took an earthen jar from the ground and brought it to her small pinkish lips. She drank, greedily, as if she was dehydrated, spilling some of the water onto her bare skin.

She wore only a small strip of cloth to cover the most delicate parts of her breasts and more strips of cloth around her hips, tightly strapped against her body in a v-pattern, to cover what would cause well-raised men to look away in embarrassment, and proper women in disgust, had it been left for everyone to see.

She continued her dance, her break had taken long enough. She spun around once more, captivating Kukuh again. Her fluid, seductive moves enthralled young Kukuh, enslaving him to her hypnotic dance. He couldn't look away, she was too good a dancer and too beautiful to look at.

Her black hair fluttered along with the ribbons, all in one slow whirlwind of colors and beauty. Round and round she went, looking like her dance would never end. Sure, she might have taken a break, but it was summer.

Summers in Omashu were intensely hot, Kukuh could only admire the dancer for her stamina. If he would have been the one dancing there, he would surely have quit. Then again, he wouldn't be dressed like her, that skimpy, nor would he attract that much of an audience.

First of all, he wasn't that much of a dancer, but more importantly, the dancer generated her audience mostly for how she was dressed and for how she looked.

It was sad that people would most likely watch her, not for her talent but her looks, but reality is often a sad thing.

At least Kukuh knew that he didn't watch her for her looks, though he wasn't so sure about it. He believed he watched her for her talent, for the way she could ensnare him and will him to watch her every movement.

Then again, who says she didn't do the same with all the other onlookers?

* * *

><p><span>Sen's First Summer in Omashu<span>

"You go on ahead," Kukuh had said.

"Take a look, get used to it, pick a room."

Kukuh need not tell him twice, he was off immediately, running from the palace's stairs towards the street where the, what king Batu had called old property, was built.

He looked at the building, amazed by its size, though he had expected something larger –considering the king owned the place.

"Now where is the door…" Sen wondered, walking along the side of the house, spotting neither door nor window.

He turned around the corner, a small staircase led down to a door.

"That's it," Sen said, running down the stairs and barging into the building.

A few pair of shocked eyes looked at him, a family, upper-class so it seemed, was enjoying dinner.

"Who… are you?" the master of the house asked, gesturing his family to calm down.

"And what are you doing in my house?"

"Y… your house?" Sen asked, mentally slapping himself against his head.

"I uh… wrong house," he said, hurrying out of the door, onto the stairs, back to the street.

He slammed the door behind him and before he knew it, he was back where he began.

He walked over to the other side, where a staircase led up to a door, which seemed to be the door Sen was looking for.

He climbed the steps, this time more slowly, walked up to the door and hesitantly opened it. The door was open, as it should be; king Batu had said it was.

He stepped into a small hall, a grand door waited in front of him, beyond it would be the living room, Sen guessed.

He hang the coat he had been given by king Batu on a rack and opened the grand door, stepping into a lowered part of the living room.

Two sets of dark green eyes stared at him, surprised, but not confused and scared, like the dining family had been.

"Not again…" Sen muttered, but the two approached him, shaking his hand friendly and leading him up a few steps, into the main part of the living room, which was slightly elevated.

"Welcome to your new home master Kukuh," the two said, "we are your housekeepers."

"Uh… I'm not Kukuh," Sen said.

"Oh… who are you then?" one of the two, a young man, asked.

"I'm Sen," Sen answered. "His best friend?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," the other housekeeper, a young woman, said.

"I accompanied Kukuh during his travels?"

"Nope…"

"Stood by him when all others faltered or left…?"

"No clue…"

"I'm staying here too…?"

"Oooooooooooh…" the woman said, "why didn't you tell us immediately."

"Welcome to your new home master Sen," the young man said.

"I am Gan, this is Lua," he said.

"We will basically clean up all the mess you and your partner leave behind."

"Oh but, we're not…"

"We will prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner," Lua continued, cutting Sen short, "prepare your baths and make your beds."

"We are living in this house too, might you be wondering, we can be found in the servant's quarters when not busying ourselves with the work we need to do to for you and the Avatar."

"_They know? Oh, of course… Batu must have told them."_

"Feel free to explore the house," Gan said.

He and Lua strode off, continuing their chores.

Sen walked through the spacious living room, seeing a kitchen tucked away in a spacious recess in the far left corner from where he stood.

A bit more to the right, a hallway led towards the servant's quarters and the bedrooms.

He had to walk a few a small staircase, low, broad steps, to get to the larger staircase that led to the bedrooms.

"So many stairs…" Sen mumbled, wondering why the house had been designed that way.

He turned to the left, walking along the staircase's side, making a one hundred and eighty degree turn in order to be able to climb the stairs.

Once upstairs, a short hallway ended at a window, with a door on both his left and right side.

He looked through the window, seeing a balcony and beyond that, the city walls, the abyss and the army camp of the besiegers.

He had the choice between two bedrooms, he chose the one to his right, which was a tad smaller than the one to his left. That one would be Kukuh's room.

* * *

><p><span>Kala's First Summer During the Siege<span>

"_Careful now," _Kala thought, sneaking through the dim lit tent.

A certain person wouldn't approve, had he known she was doing this, but she didn't really care that much what he thought of it.

Only for a short moment, she had considered turning back, leaving him be, but it had been too tempting, too perfect to let it go.

"_If you get caught," _she could hear her father say in her head, _"blame it on hormones. If they start to harass you, send them to me."_

Comforting, yes, but Kala wasn't planning on getting caught.

Perhaps there was some truth in her father's words, she felt like she was going crazy due to anxiety mixed with desire.

She was so different from her peers.

All the other girls were either still busy playing with toys, or helping their mothers, or they were completely engrossed in making themselves look more appealing, none of which Kala bothered to concern herself with.

No, she had something different on her mind, something of greater importance to both her, and her father to some extent.

She sneaked behind a large piece of canvas, which hang to dry within the warm atmosphere of the tent. It was the perfect vantage point, for she stood in the shadows, and was therefore removed from vision.

She was late, she found out, peeking along the canvas, still hidden in the darkness, to the bathing prince.

Well, bathing…?

No, it seemed he had enough of it, stepping out of the wooden tub.

Her eyes feasted on the view she had, trailing all over the prince's body, the prince she so deeply desired.

She observed him closer, following a route along his jawline, chin, down past his throat, towards his chest, which, still damp, glistened, the dim candlelight reflecting in the few drops of moisture on his skin.

She smirked, if only he knew that she was watching him…

He would be so embarrassed.

Maybe a bit mad.

Further down, her eyes went, skipping over the few hairs that had begun growing on his chest, until she reached his waist.

There she reveled in his muscularity, though she had the chance to do so earlier, when her eyes glanced over his pronounced pectorals.

No, has abdominal muscles, that was what she admired most about his body, so far that is.

As she was about to continue her way down, her fun was abruptly concluded.

The prince took a towel, putting it around his waist and hips.

She bit her lip, cussing herself in her mind; she was too late to get a good glimpse of him.

She had to leave, he was approaching the canvas behind which she was hiding.

She fell to her stomach, lifting the tent's canvas so she could pass underneath. She crawled away, unseen, but slightly dissatisfied.


	2. II

II.

* * *

><p><span>After Kukuh's First Week of Training<span>

"Why did you summon me, grandfather?" Kuarsa asked.

"Why do you think, young one?" the old man asked in return, beckoning his grandson.

The young man walked up to his grandfather, who, having a bad day, couldn't stand up from his chair.

"How is he faring?" the old man asked.

"He is… catching on," Kuarsa said.

His hesitance was obvious, and though the old man had trouble hearing, and was getting slow of mind, he heard and understood.

"How long will it take him?" he asked, voice feeble and this time hardly audible.

Kuarsa heard; by now, he was used to his grandfather's condition, though he didn't see him that often.

"Eight years," he said, proud of his statement.

Many teachers had given up on first try, trying to teach the boy to become an earth bending master, but he hadn't. He saw potential in the boy who looked helpless on first sight, bending on instinct.

That on its own wasn't so bad, the problem being that the boy didn't really have that much of a bending master's instinct.

Kuarsa understood why that many teachers and renowned master had given up, but they didn't realize that the boy couldn't stay a halfwit when it comes to earth bending.

That is why he had taken the duty on him to train the boy, knowing that it would be a struggle, and that it would take a lot of time and patience.

His grandfather, being the person he used to be, harsh and unforgiving, shook his head.

"Too long," he said.

Like that, he could undo all feelings of pride.

"But…"

"Complain all you want, it's too long," king Batu said.

"Eight years," he huffed, "if only we had that much time…"

"Then how much time will you give me?" Kuarsa asked.

He wished to make his grandfather proud, like his father failed to do on many occasions.

So far, he had not failed his grandfather, never, though being a prodigy, that was expected of him.

"Four years, five at most," Batu said.

Kuarsa sighed, that would be challenging.

He felt the urge to speak out against his grandfather, but he wasn't given an opportunity. Kuarsa had to admit, even though his grandfather was old and frail, he still dominated the conversations the two of them had.

"And I advise you not to fail me," Batu said.

He moved his head closer to Kuarsa's, grimacing.

"If you do," he said, "we will all perish."

"Perish, but grandfather…"

"Yes, perish!" the king yelled, pulling himself back into his chair.

"Do you think we have the manpower to break the siege, prince Kuarsa?" he asked.

"Do you think that by some sort of miracle, the spirits will relieve us?"

"Do you think that I can work miracles to keep us all safe, far from harm?"

"Nuh… no…" Kuarsa said, backing away from his grandfather.

"Good," Batu snarled, gesturing Kuarsa to leave him alone.

"Get it done."

Kuarsa bowed and left the room, passing his father who had been waiting at the door.

He was grabbed in his neck, his face brought close to his father's.

"You dare lie to the king?" Su'at hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kuarsa said, assuming a calm posture.

His father tried to be like the king, an authoritarian, but he couldn't match Batu by far.

"Don't lie to me," Su'at said, releasing his son from his iron grip, adding, "son," nearly like a sneer.

"You know as well as I do, that there's no hope for the kid."

"How would you know?"

"I saw you train him," Su'at said.

He smirked, "He isn't catching on, and he'll never catch on."

"The perfect prince Kuarsa will fail, like I said he eventually would."

"We will see, father," Kuarsa said, walking away from his father.

"And quit your gloating already," he muttered.

His father didn't hear, he had entered Batu's room and closed the door.

Kuarsa wondered from time to time what his father and grandfather would discuss together. His guess was that they discussed matters of state, since his father was the heir to the throne of Omashu.

He shrugged, he needed to divert his attention to a more important matter, teaching the Avatar how to properly bend earth.

* * *

><p><span>A Few Months into the Siege<span>

On a morning, a surge of excitement went through the camp of the water tribe besiegers of Omashu.

Akkik left the tranquility of his tent to see what was going on, finding out, feeling conflicted.

"Greetings brave warriors!" an aged man, seated on a grey polar dog, exclaimed.

"We are here to support you in every way we can!"

Akkik waited in front of his tent, bearing a wry smile.

The man passed him, they glanced at each other for a second, but the man turned his face away.

He pursed his lips, sighing.

"Okay then," he mumbled.

He walked along the line the soldiers had formed, trying to get a glimpse of the chief of the Southern Water Tribe.

In the distance, he saw his father speeding towards the center of the camp, where chief Ghanak would be waiting.

He didn't hurry, there was no need, it seemed his father didn't want to see him anyway.

When he got to the center of the camp, he saw his father saying goodbye to chief Ghanak.

Adok turned around, scanning the area around him, until his eyes met with Akkik's once more.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, opening his arms and walking towards Akkik.

"My son!"

Akkik accepted the situation he now found himself in. He couldn't turn away from his father, disgracing him in front of such an audience, so he walked up to his father and underwent his firm embrace.

Adok released him shortly thereafter, taking a small step backwards to inspect his son.

"You've changed," he mumbled. "Have you gained weight?"

Akkik wished to answer his father's question, but he didn't let him.

"No," he said, smiling proudly, keeping his lips pressed to one another, "you have become a _real _man." He nodded.

"Yes…"

"I'm honored to see you again, chief," Akkik said, giving his father a courteous nod.

"Do you hear that men?" Adok asked, raising his voice significantly to make himself audible.

"True discipline! Embraced by his father, he still calls him chief!"

The men laughed, during their laughter, Adok closed in on Akkik.

"We need to speak," he whispered.

Akkik nodded.

He followed his father inside of chief Ghanak's tent.

Ghanak had left for a moment to give Adok and Akkik the privacy Adok had requested.

"I heard you finally listened to me," Adok said, once they were inside.

"If this is about Kala, I really don't feel like talking about it," Akkik said.

Adok grinned, walking over to a wooden cabinet where Ghanak stored his liquor.

"Why not?" he asked, carefully picking a bottle and filling a goblet with the strong smelling drink.

"I believe it's worth a celebration, though there are some things we need to discuss that are of the utmost importance."

Adok gave the filled goblet to his son, pouring himself a goblet full of the same drink.

"Really?" Akkik asked, clearly annoyed.

"Why don't you leave it all to myself? Why don't you get off my back for a second?"

"You will understand when the time comes that you've fathered your own children," Adok answered, drinking the booze in one go.

"Once you're a father of teenage children, knowing how lustful and foul you've been in your own youth, you will understand where I stand."

"Oh please," Akkik said, "don't give me that crap again."

"Crap?" Adok asked.

"If only you understood where I came from…"

"Yes, yes, blah, blah, responsibility and all," Akkik said, waving his father's words away.

"Indeed, responsibility," Adok said, keeping his cool, though Akkik saw anger growing within him.

"I don't know how you, a son of mine, could do without a wife for as long as this," he said, "and I hope you didn't defile yourself…"

"Come on… stop it already," Akkik said.

"But to be honest son, I don't really care, you've stayed pure, I hope, and now you've grown towards Manak's daughter. Once the two of you marry, I…"

"Marriage? Come on father, please, don't get ahead of yourself."

"Fine, fine, though I urge you to hurry," Adok said.

"A man of your age, around a girl as beautiful as she… it will only be a matter of time before your mind turns foul."

"And once the mind turns foul, the body will follow."

"Yes, yes, abstinence and chastity," Akkik said, repeating the two words his father had shoved down his own and his brother's throat.

Anoak had abided his father's teachings, though he was forced to marry at age twelve.

Akkik had tried to hold his father's teachings in honor as well, and so far, he had been successful. His father was right though, it was getting harder every day.

"Good, you remembered," Adok hummed.

"In that case, I don't think I need to tell you again, you're excused."

Akkik left the tent and wandered back to his tent. He had something to think about.

* * *

><p><span>A Week After Adok's Arrival<span>

Kala stood at a plateau, which served as an outpost, overlooking the city of Omashu. She had agreed on standing guard, there wasn't much else she could do in the army camp. The men sparred, and spent most their time chopping trees and crafting military equipment.

Besides, Akkik was acting rather distant ever since his father arrived, so she didn't feel like spending much time with him either.

Her father was busy too, stationed at one of the small harbors near Omashu with a small regiment.

"Such a peaceful evening, isn't it?" someone said from behind her.

"It's strange," she said, "I had expected the citizens of Omashu to be in panic, but it looks like they don't care."

"They're earth benders," the man said, walking up to her, "they don't panic."

"I don't believe that, chief," Kala said, "everyone panics."

"But they don't show it."

"True…" Kala mumbled.

"Why the gloomy attitude?" chief Ghanak asked.

"Akkik."

"Ah, yes, his father's visit has gotten to him, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but that's not all…"

"Oh?"

"He admitted that he loves me, that felt great, but I want our relationship to move forward, yet he…"

"He doesn't want to take the next step," Kala said.

"Aren't you a bit too eager?" Ghanak asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you realize that Akkik is a son of Southern Water Tribe's chief? He has been raised differently from how you were raised. Don't you know that Adok is the most strict man on the South Pole when it comes to tradition and morality."

"I don't follow…"

"Akkik's father was never meant to be the chief of the Southern Water Tribe, he just… got into the position by a stroke of luck."

"So?"

"He grew up and lived most of his life in the Northern Water Tribe and you know how prudish people are there," Ghanak said.

"You'll have to accept it. The two of us, we grew up in a more open-minded society, while Akkik and his father grew up in a more strict, conservative environment."

"I never knew this…" Kala said.

"Thank you for telling me. This isn't the first time you've…"

"You're welcome Kala."


	3. III

_Warning: The last part of this chapter could not be suited for you to read if you don't like to read anything sexual._

* * *

><p>III.<p>

* * *

><p><span>Kukuh's First Winter in Omashu<span>

Kukuh ploughed through the snow that covered the streets of Omashu. He was tired, having spent the entire day training with his new master, prince Kuarsa.

Kuarsa was a great teacher, but unforgiving when it came to exercising.

The man had had his share in exercises too, as it showed. He was a fine example of an earth bender, buff, confident and patient. It was his goal to make Kukuh into such an earth bender.

The first aspect of Kukuh's training focused around developing his muscles. Increasing power and stamina, those were the main goals set by Kuarsa for the first few months.

Five hours a day, Kuarsa had devoted to pure physical training, though he hadn't overburdened Kukuh, they had started out slow. Besides, the five hours also included massages and visiting the palace's sauna.

Why Kuarsa did it this way, Kukuh didn't know, he was no teacher, but it had surely worked, for Kukuh noted he had grown in strength and muscularity.

Physical training wasn't everything Kukuh went through on a normal day of training, he received training in the basics of earth bending as well and besides that, he learned a lesson or two about statecraft and politics from Kuarsa during the time they spent in the sauna.

Whereas Kukuh found the training sessions far more enjoyable than the training sessions of Miss Shaku, and though he never scrupled going to the palace for another training session, the sessions did drain him of his energy.

He hadn't been amused to find out that all the roads were covered in a thick layer of snow.

Kuarsa had been, telling him going home would be a great cooling down exercise.

Cool, yes, great, no.

How glad he was, to finally be able to step inside, into the warmth and comfort of his estate, being greeted with a smile and two helping hands, taking off his snow covered coat and boots.

"Thank you Gan," Kukuh said, wriggling his toes. He didn't feel them anymore, they were that cold.

"You're welcome master Kukuh," Gan said, throwing Kukuh's coat into a small basket and walking into the living room with Kukuh's snow covered boots; he would put them near the hearth.

"Master Sen is still in bed," Gan said as Kukuh entered the living room.

"Still?" Kukuh asked.

"Has he even been up today?"

"No, I haven't seen master Sen for the entire day," Gan answered.

"Though, come to think of it," he said, drying the floor with a piece of cloth, because Kukuh had caused a lot of mess, dragging a lot of snow into the room, "Lua mentioned she believes that master Sen is ill."

"I see, I will check on him soon," Kukuh said.

"Did Lua give him something to eat?"

"Yes master Kukuh, she brought him a bowl of steaming broth and she kept him company for a while," Gan answered.

"You could take a hot water bottle to him," Gan said, "I readied it in the kitchen, but I didn't have the time to bring it to master Sen."

Kukuh climbed the stairs, his feet tingling as they started to warm up again.

"Sen, are you awake?" he whispered, tip-toeing into Sen's room.

He got no answer, Sen was asleep, breathing uneasily.

Kukuh approached him, laying a hand on Sen's cold, but sweaty head.

"Fever," Kukuh noted, putting the hot water bottle beneath the blankets, near Sen's feet.

"Rest Sen," he said, planting a soft kiss on Sen's forehead. "You'll get better in no time."

He left the room after that, hearing soft humming coming from Sen's bed.

He crossed the hallway into his own room, and, seeing the hot bath Lua had prepared him, he didn't hesitate for a moment but to jump in.

* * *

><p><span>Kala's First Winter During the Siege<span>

"I'm so happy you finally asked me to come by," Kala said, pressing herself closer to Akkik.

Together they lay on a soft cloth made of animal skin, near a small fire, in Akkik's tent.

It had been the first time after a month that Akkik had asked her to come by, he had avoided her for the rest of the time, only briefly talking to her when he had to see her during meetings amongst other things.

Private moments were sparse, but that hadn't been an obstacle in the past, so Kala saw through Akkik when he used it as an excuse.

Akkik didn't respond, he gently stroked her hair in all its length, starting from the crown of her head, along her shoulders and back to her bottom, where the black colored strings of hair finally met their end.

Kala rested her head on Akkik's arm, while he put his other arm around her pulling the two of them in a tight embrace.

Kala, approving of Akkik's action, hummed softly, intertwining her hand with Akkik's, kissing it softly.

She listened to Akkik's slow, but steady breathing and his, somewhat elevated heartbeat. She noticed she started to much his rate of breathing and heartbeat after a while, finding it a curious process, but at the same time incredibly beautiful.

For her, it meant just one thing, she and Akkik were meant for each other, sharing a connection that went deeper than most connections. Only the connection to her father was deeper, for she and her father shared the same blood, but sharing the same heartbeat felt rather close to that.

For a moment, a few thoughts came to Kala's mind, how she could use this situation to take the next step in her relation with Akkik, but realizing she was enjoying this too much, she let the opportunity pass.

Akkik was changing her, slowly, but surely, she noticed. She had intended it to be the other way around, luring him into her web where she would devour him.

It was turning out to be quite different.

Sure, he didn't call the shots, though he had been in charge when he chose not to see her for over a month, but she wasn't really in charge either.

It had been her intention, to take charge and never lose control. She had approached it as a duel, the strategy she used in it, she had wished to implement on conquering Akkik. Akkik's defense had proven to be vulnerable at times, evidently so, but with each move she made, he was able to keep her at bay.

Now, his defense was stronger than ever. Over the past few months, Akkik had become more calculative.

Or maybe she had gotten weaker? Lazy? Perhaps the words of chief Ghanak had made her lose all motivation, or her focus? Had he made her doubt herself, or her plans and was that having a paralytic effect on her?

"I know that look," Akkik said, pulling her even closer to him, "what are you thinking about?"

She looked at him from the corners of her eyes, into Akkik's bright blue eyes.

"Nothing," she said, "nothing of importance."

He moved his head closer to hers, while she, more aggressive as she was in nature, not wishing to wait until he was close enough, grabbed his head and pulled him in, pressing their lips against one another.

Tongues swirling, intertwining, like their hands were.

* * *

><p><span>Manak's First Winter During the Siege<span>

Since a few weeks, Manak had been stationed in Gangkou Garam, one of the many ports to the southwest of Omashu.

There, he had been given the command over a small regiment with the orders to keep the little village and the harbor under water tribe control. He didn't act like he was in charge of the regiment of soldiers, he acted like he was the righteous ruler of Gangkou Garam.

There was no one to stop him, no one that really cared. Chief Ghanak, who had stationed him there, probably knew, but he allowed Manak to have fun. The soldiers were given a lot of freedom, so they remained content and the people… the people were glad they were still alive.

Manak enjoyed the good life, governing the small village and the surrounding lands, hardly ever leaving the village.

He woke up, like every day, next to his beloved second in command, the lieutenant who had changed him, who saved him from endless grief after his wife committed suicide.

Kun was still sleeping, but Manak, seeing the sunrays enter through the windows of the house he had made his home, was fully awake.

He grabbed himself another blanket, for it was cold, it was winter.

He wasn't hungry, nor thirsty, nor did he need to go to the bathroom, which was perfect, because he could stay in bed and act lazy, maybe have some fun once Kun woke up.

But why would he wait for Kun to wake up, that could take a long while, and Manak wasn't willing to wait that long, if he could wake _him_ up.

He smirked, rolling to his side and slowly disappearing underneath the blankets.

"Mmmh," Kun moaned, slowly opening his eyes. He woke up feeling strangely satisfied.

It took him only a second to realize why.

"Good morning," he chuckled, patting Manak's head, which was still hidden beneath the blankets.

Manak crawled from underneath the blankets, leaning over Kun and staring him in the eyes.

"Good morning," he said, kissing him.


	4. IV

IV.

* * *

><p><span>The End of the First Winter in Omashu<span>

Another three hours of intense physical training had passed and Kuarsa had finally shown mercy, giving Kukuh a break. Kuarsa had really pushed Kukuh this time and it had left Kukuh exhausted, every muscle burnt and every joint hurt.

Kukuh fell to the ground, heaving a deep sigh.

"Get up sissy," Kuarsa said, laughing at Kukuh.

"You think this is funny?"

"I do believe it's slightly amusing."

Kukuh looked at the prince, who's pursed lips muffled a chuckle and who's nostrils widened, chest heaving and shoulders jolting.

"Cheer up, the worst is behind you."

Kuarsa poked Kukuh's sore leg with his foot, suppressing another chortle.

"Tomorrow however…"

A deep sigh from Kukuh's part, a dark glare and a kick against Kuarsa's shin.

"Princes can be in pain too!"

He rubbed his shin, but reached out his hand to Kukuh. Kukuh took it, his eyes twitched feeling the force Kuarsa used to pinch his hand.

"On your feet Avatar."

"Of course your majesty."

Kuarsa's lips curled as Kukuh curtsied in front of him, throwing his arms high in the air behind his back, bowing deeply.

"What now," he asked, "do you want me to kiss your hand?"

"Only if you want to, your majesty."

"Witty…" Kuarsa mumbled. "Now, come on!"

Kuarsa grabbed Kukuh by his arm, dragging him along.

Kukuh, who was still busy curtsying spun around, wobbling on his feet, tilting forward.

Had Kuarsa not kept dragging him along, he would have surely fallen. The haste with which Kuarsa dragged him along kept Kukuh on his feet, though Kukuh had rather fallen, so he could rest on the ground.

"No falling for you. Trust me though, you'll be happy you didn't fall."

Kuarsa took him to the sauna and the two got changed.

The damp air pressured Kukuh's lungs, the heat warming Kukuh's every limb.

His muscles had felt like they were on fire before they got into the sauna, now his entire body was heating up, forcing him to sweat even more than he had done during training.

The mud on his skin, his sweat had mixed with the sand and dust, slowly slid of his body, drooping down onto the floor where all lumps formed a little puddle of brownish goo.

"So Kukuh," Kuarsa said, brushing his hand over his chest. Little particles of dust were hurled into the open, floating about until they met the small droplets that pressured Kukuh's lungs so much.

"We need to discuss something."

Kukuh looked up, into Kuarsa's eyes. He bore an emotionless expression, his dark brows cast an eerie shadow over Kuarsa's face, making him look twenty years older than he actually was.

He gulped, knowing full well what this was about. He was twiddling his thumbs, looking away. Eye contact with Kuarsa was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

"You're not making progress as fast as I would have liked."

"But I am making progress?" Kukuh asked.

"Smiling at me like that won't get you out of this."

His apologetic smile disappeared immediately, Kukuh looked away again.

"I've tried everything I could," Kuarsa said, "and while you are making real progress in your physique, your bending is getting more and more behind on schedule."

"You have the potential however, I see it from time to time…"

"But?"

"But you're experiencing some kind of mental or spiritual block, preventing you to make proper progress on your basic and advanced bending."

Kukuh shook his head. Kuarsa couldn't be right, he felt better than ever.

"And I think I know what caused this block."

"What would _that _be?" Kukuh asked, rolling his eyes.

Kuarsa frowned, casting shadows over his face once more. He glared at Kukuh, a torch's reflection could be seen in his eyes.

Kukuh understood Kuarsa's look, reading the part amused, part angry expression on the prince's face and paid attention.

"You've told me about your travels once."

"Yes… so?"

"You've been on the run, ever since you knew you were the Avatar," Kuarsa spoke.

"You left your home, on the run. You travelled through the Earth Kingdom, no, you ran through the Earth Kingdom, fleeing from the water tribes. Even now, you're still running, not because you are in danger, but because you're unable to accept everything that has happened to you."

Kukuh needed only a moment to think about everything Kuarsa said to him, after which he shook his head, resolutely.

"You know it to be true."

"No, it isn't. It doesn't add up," Kukuh argued, wagging his finger at Kuarsa.

"Oh really, what doesn't add up?"

"I've always had trouble earth bending, even before the war started."

Kuarsa thought for a moment, wiping the sweat from his forehead as if the droplets were disrupting his thoughts.

"Weren't there things you've ran from when you were young?"

"No! Just stop asking."

"There must be something… there is no other possibility. My theory is just too perfect."

"There is nothing, I'm just not a great earth bender…"

They sat in relative silence after that. Kuarsa was softly thudding the back of his head against the wall, hoping it would help him think, while Kukuh sat huddled up on the bench.

He was biting on his lower lip, as the words of Kuarsa were slowly getting ground in his mind.

Kuarsa was right on one point, it would really fit everything.

* * *

><p><span>Nine Month's into the Siege<span>

"Nine months," Ghanak complained, kicking a little pebble into the open, "nine months into this siege and still no changes."

"What did you expect?" Adok asked.

The old man walked with chief Ghanak through the army camp, amused by his colleague's remarks, not only about the siege, and how long it took, but also about the simplest things of life.

Adok had always thought of Ghanak as a rather boring person, but ever since the chief lost his father and sought to lighten his grief in alcohol, he became a more interesting person.

Broken, damaged if you will, but interesting nonetheless.

The man was a handsome lad, possessing of a body and face Adok would have envied in his youth, and a talented bender, but above all, a shrewd tactician, a manipulator.

A smile, or a kind word, was all the chief needed to charm everyone he met, an endearing person, on first sight. Well-mannered, and possessing of a silver tongue.

Deep within, however, the man was just like every other man, foul and perverted, a monster.

A well-mannered monster, one that transferred all his desires into a need for liquor that couldn't be satisfied.

It was one way to deal with everything, Adok agreed, but not a way he would have chosen, nor a way he would see his children choose.

"I expected we would have intimidated them a bit more."

"To intimidate a city full of earth benders," Adok said.

"Have you been drinking?"

* * *

><p><span>Sen's Winter Night<span>

Wandering through the narrow streets in the lowest parts of Omashu, Sen wondered why he had followed Gan and Lua here. His stomach turned a little bit more, with every step he took.

He scanned the narrow alley intently, knowing well in what neighborhood he found himself in. Beggars crowded the muddy street, transferring their filth to anyone who dared to pass along.

It wasn't something Sen had grown up with, this kind of poverty he had never seen. He had grown up as the only son of the richest man of Hia-Pao, a shrewd businessman, whose intelligence Sen thought to have inherited. Yes, he was naïve, he knew that, but he had proven his intelligence on multiple occasions.

He knew exactly what was going on, on the other side of the thin walls. He heard the moans on the other side, hardly muffled, a bit fake.

Knowing that, he'd rather want to turn around, run away and hide from all he had seen and heard.

But, at the same time, knowing of all depravities, his interest was piqued, wondering why Gan and Lua would venture here.

It was that curiosity that kept him from turning around, that made him follow in the housekeepers' footsteps, even though he felt all but comfortable.

Gan and Lua entered a house, near the end of another narrow, beggar-filled street.

Sen sneaked, nearly pressing himself to the wall, towards that very house. Curiosity got the better of him, making he go where he knew he should not have gone. What would his mother have thought, if she knew what he was doing?

His father would have punished him, severely.

Suddenly, two cold hands grabbed him at his legs, bringing him to the ground.

His face glowed, he felt it warming up, until the pain kicked in after he started to recover from the initial shock.

The two hands dragged him inside, Sen tried to struggle, clawing about, trying to dig his nails into the dirt.

"Shush," someone whispered. Sen couldn't distinguish who, or what, the person was, shock and fear numbed his senses.

"Don't resist."

"You'll enjoy this."

"I promise."

Sen jolted up, looking around frantically as he sat up in his bed.

The windows were open, as they should be, and the door to his room was closed.

The cold winter wind blew in his heated face.

"_A dream?"_

Sen fell back onto his mattress, which was, unsurprisingly wet.

"_A nightmare?"_

But why couldn't he remember?


End file.
